


Tary in the Evening

by MeganBStrange



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Assumed Polymachina, Eventual Sex, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, One-Sided Relationship (ish), PWP, Smut, Taryon Darrington has Daddy Issues, Taryon Darrington is thirsty for all of vox machina, Taryon Darrington smut literally no one asked for, This is all Pike's Fault, inappropriate boners, sexual fantasies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-06 22:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganBStrange/pseuds/MeganBStrange
Summary: Taryon Darrington keeps his promise to Pike.Predictably, Tary completely misses the point and complications arise.





	1. Study Your Flashcards

**Author's Note:**

> (spoilers for episodes 89 and up)
> 
> Not my first attempt at writing fan fiction but first time posting here.  
>   
> Seriously, I would have thought that someone else would have written about this.  
> SHE WANTS HIM TO LOOK AT SMUTTY PICTURES OF VOX MACHINA BEFORE BED.  
> THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA. THERE WILL BE SO MANY INAPPROPRIATE BONERS.  
> and so i had to write smut about it
> 
> Enjoy

While he would never dream of breaking his promise to the little gnomish cleric- _his most heartfelt vow to the radiant all seeing daughter of Sarenrae herself-_ it's closer to true night than it is late evening when he finally retires to his humble cabin on the ship-  _on their noble vessel-_ that first night after leaving Vesrah. Setting Doty up to guard his door- _Having given the command to his faithful manservant to keep an ever vigilant watch over the entrance to his_ _bedchamber-_ he rationalizes it to himself that he'd simply been too keyed up to sleep. Too excited- _Nay, buoyed by the triumphant elation of a battle won, a quest completed, and a journey yet to continue_ _... to succumb to the sweet respite of slumber would be truly impossible._  

But now, the sun had well and truly set. Just a hazy glow on the watery horizon as the moon gently coasts its way across the sky. Evening waxing into night, the rest of vox machina, his adventuring group- _his band of simple yet loyal followers-_ had already ensconced themselves away in their disparate bedchambers. Now all that remained was for him to do the same... 

With his door closed, and his back protected, Tary now had no excuse to avoid restful solitude and  _privacy._

 

Looking about the space however, Tary wrinkled his nose. He may need to reconsider that last line of dialog... with all the excitement he'd frankly forgotten how small the accommodations on this ship actually were. Calling it a _b_ _ed chamber_   was obviously too strong of a word to use. The space provided would perhaps be better suited as a closet.

From the center he could stretch out his arms and solidly touch both walls on either side.

A necessary action as, sitting down on the canvas hammock of a bed, it buckled beneath him swinging and swaying violently. Flailing his arms about as he tried to combat both gravity and the constant roll of the waves, Tary managed to catch his balance before his traitorous cot nearly tossed him to the floor, bruising his knuckles in the process. Lucky enough to keep his seat, the close save was not enough for his bag, and his satchel was sacrificed to the floor in his efforts to save himself. 

The rough handling scattered a few of his belongings, and reaching down Tary could see that among the few that had managed to escape, the drawings that Doty had provided had slid across the floor to his feet.

 And there predominantly displayed, and artfully rendered, was the lovely gnomish cleric bringing his promise back starkly to mind.

 

Startled, his eyes darted about the cabin for some tell-tale glimmer of her holy glow. His eyes only catching the flickering light and shadow from his candle... but that didn't mean she wasn't there.

From the page, the cleric gazed up at him with an expression of mild consternation and quiet disapproval.

"I-yes. Yes. You are quite right," Tary flushed as he hung his head at the imagined admonition. He did not want to disappoint this lovely all-seeing creature and with his procrastination, it seemed he was already on to a shaky start. "I was just- I was making excuses, and for that I apologize. No excuses. It- It won't happen again, I swear it. Vow It. I promise, I made a promise and I will keep it. I will be more diligent. Most Diligent in attending to this task going forward... Okay?"

He chanced another look around the corners of the room. No change, but to his eyes the shifting shadows falling across her sketch made her seem a bit more pleased than before. "Right. Okay, setting too it then," Tary nodded in resolve, " _Flashcards."_

Gathering up the rest of the portraits, he gingerly settled himself back into his hammock. Reclining as best he could, he let one leg dangle down so his foot was resting near the floor- insurance against another tumble and to better control the constant rocking.

Tary nodded once more to the gnome-  _PIKE, right nothing to it. I can do this._    
Irrationally anxious he wet his lips before, swallowing heavily, he shifted her page to the back of the stack... revealing the next portrait.

 

From the page, captured in lines of ink and shaded quite realistically, the two half elves were frozen in repose.  _Antlers_ and  _Little Elf Boy_ lay snuggled closely together, the covers of the exotic vesrah bed drawn up to their chins in demure modesty. 

Tary couldn't help but stare, fascinated by the juxtaposition... comparing the sketched pose to how he knew them. 

Normally  _Antlers_ radiated confidence and poise- as befitted a leader of such a veteran traveling troupe of adventurers. Tall, lithe and strong, the width and breadth of her powers far surpassed his own talents. From day one, her very presence commanded his respect, and Tary found that his admiration and awe of her grew daily.

He looked up to her, how could he not? And not just because she was one of the tallest women he'd ever met. 

And  _Little Elf Boy_ , her right hand man, world weary and wise. So brooding. So mysterious. Almost frightening at times with how he moved. All catlike grace and viper quick reflexes. So deceptively dangerous with his lanky frame of taunt wiry muscles. Not even death itself could hold him, proving not even hours from the grave, and to have such vigor and fortitude...

And yet they were drawn almost coy- coquettish as they clutched their covers close, leaning in to one another. All doe eyed as they turned away, with bare skin peeking around their attempts to cover their modesty. Like he'd stepped in on them unexpectedly and they were surprised to see him in their bedchambers- And with that naughty thrill he wondered if they would be like this as lovers. 

Abruptly he envisioned himself there, snuggled betwixt the two in a sensuous tangle of limbs and flesh and soft sheets. 

 

Tary startled at the thought, his eyes chasing the shadows with guilty alarm as his flustered flinch setting his hammock swinging.  

No mystical radiance to be found, but he couldn't help but wonder. If the gnome cleric could always see him, could she also hear his thoughts? 

The gnome- _Pike_. He'd asked Pike, but she had not been entirely clear as to how the... the _relationships_ of vox machina ran. This blatant sexual openness. It was so... He was so inexperienced with the ways of the world... was this normal? Was this what travelling with real adventurers was going to be like? All epic _deadly_ battles, sex and violence... 

Would this be something that would be expected of him? The idea was as alarming as it was thrilling and while he was still very _very_ confused, he'd gotten the distinct impression that Pike wouldn't  _disapprove_ of him thinking of his companions in a less-than-chaste manner... 

In fact, if he recalled correctly, she might have mentioned it could be something that he could explore?

The possibility that these strong, admirable,  _attractive_ adventurers would be open to considering... to deigning Him, _Taryon Darrington_ , with the opportunity to partake in the more carnal pleasure of their attention was... Well... He'd be lying if he said he wasn't flattered. In fact, he was more than a little intrigued. That he could be allowed... that they would want him to... It stirred an excitement him that few things have caused him to feel before.

Resuming his study, he slowly pulled the picture away from where he'd instinctively hid it against his chest.

The sketch remained the same, but Tary could feel his face flush as he looked on it with a new appreciation as his imagination took over. 

 

The look of mild alarm gently fades away from the half-elves' faces as they realize it is Tary standing before them, who has found them together in their room. _Antlers_  pulls away to tuck herself behind the  _Little Elf Boy's_ shoulder, the curtain of her red hair falling across his skin as he pulls the blanket further up to obscure his rugged chest and hide his scars from view.

Where they are demure, he is made the aggressor and Tary kneels across the bed, smiling roguishly as he prowls his way towards them. 

Fingers ghosting over their shapely legs, he would run his hands over soft skin. Gently tracing the puckering of scars. Feeling their powerful muscles quiver under his grasp. He would stare  _Little Elf Boy_ in the eyes, drawing the sheet away with his teeth before pressing him down into the bed with an insistent palm to the chest. Tary would plunder his pouting lips, before turning to kiss away  _Antlers_ moue of surprise and tangle his hands in her hair. 

He can feel the trembling in her arms as he pins them beside her- no, above her head, with both of her wrists held in one hand while he uses the other to drag her man down to another kiss while she watches. Sneaky as the day is long,  _Little Elf Boy_ would steal touches and kisses of his own, until Tary pins him down in the same way. Making him watch as he leaves  _Antlers_ breathless and moaning as he works nestled between her powerful thighs... until the  _Little Elf Boy_ begs for his turn.

Gently manhandling them both, he'd take them and their pleasure and leave them gasping for more. One after the other, over and over again...  
Either one of them could easily overpower him, but instead they succumb. Willingly giving in to whatever he desires...

It's a powerful feeling that sends a shiver racing down his spine to curl his toes with pleasure.

 

Short of breath, Tary blinks down at the sketch in his hand, his cheeks aflame and more aroused than he probably should be.

The small room feels uncomfortably warm, and swallowing against his suddenly dry mouth he loosens the collar of his shirt, undoing a few of its laces. Despite his rather ah- _vivid_ daydream, he's not quite sure he'd be up to the challenge of having both of them in his bed at the same time. He'd not entirely inexperienced... but most of Tary's ah, past _liaisons_  had been more interested in his gold than anything else. To be allowed to do whatever he wanted to bring _them_ to pleasure... to have that kind of willing undivided attention would be... _heady._

 

Clearing his throat, Tary tries to settle more comfortably in his hammock. Distracted, he flips to the next sketch- and nearly chokes on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon.  
> Chapter Two- The Second Sketch


	2. The Second Sketch

 

 

There, caught _in flagrante_ between bold lines of ink...

Percival lies supine and naked beneath the  _Little Elf Girl,_ who is wearing a forbidding expression and not much else. 

 

He'd forgotten how realistic this sketch was.

It's near startling in that, where the other portrait conflicted with what he knew and expected, this pose was far more believable.  
Not an hour goes by without a similar glare cast his way for one reason or another. And Tary had gotten a rather strong impression that they were _involved_ with one another. They weren't exactly subtle about it. Clearly he'd been right, as the proof lay before him. Laid out in rather excellent crosshatching...

Looking closer, Doty had even managed to capture the subtle gleam of smugness glinting from the disheveled, aristocratic man's eyes.

 

It's bold without being brazen, and neither one seems to be feeling an ounce of shame or modesty. 

Nothing is shown explicitly, for all the obvious nature of what had been going on between them. Their nakedness prominently on display. Not a stitch of cloth between them... Save for the sheet cast negligently about them. Left there to be rumpled and forgotten in the midst of their vigorous lovemaking.

The  _Little Elf Girl_ glares at him from the page in defiant irritation. A lioness crouched over her prey, possessive and snarling with challenge. 

From below, Percival is not a passive participant in this either. He has one hand buried among the ink black tresses of her hair, the other clutching her thigh where she straddles him. His glasses and hair are all askew. Her hair has half fallen out of its braid, tousled around her pointed ears. Scars from battle crisscross their exposed skin and he marvels at what could have caused them...

 

Oh, what would it be like? To have all that passion and fury turned his way...  
To be accepted by them as not just a fellow adventurer but as a lover as well?

Biting his lip, Tary can't help but wonder...

 

For one thing, he could not imagine that he would ever be allowed to have the upper hand. No, with them he would be as their powerless prisoner. And all that strength and power that he so admired, would be turned against him. 

The _Little Elf Girl_ would make sure of that...

Regal like a Queen in her nakedness, there shewould be, sprawled out on the bed before him. Haughty and as disdainful as ever. 

At her command Percival would grab him from behind. Pinning Tary's arms behind him just so. Unable to escape the other man's strong blacksmith arms. Made to stand or to kneel before them at their whim. Forced to do nothing but feel. The naked heat of the other man's flesh soaking into him.

Rising gracefully to her feet, she would strip him bare of all his clothes. Leaving him devoid of all his tricks and riches.  
Until he was as naked as they were. The warm lustful heat of their skin pressed against his as he's left shivering in the cool air. 

She would walk around him then. Around them.  
Judging him with her eyes as the teasing touches from her ungentle hands wring from him breathless gasps and whimpering moans. 

Together, they would whisper such words with their wicked, clever tongues. Conversing to each other about him, like he's not even there, saying things that would leave him exposed inside as out. And when he is left begging, the _Little_ _Elf Girl_ would laugh at him.

Mocking him and his neediness, and would turn her hands away.

 

Standing close enough for him to touch her, if only he was allowed, she would turn her attention back to her lover- to Percival.  
And it would be to the other man she would bestow her every kiss and touch and caress...

Making love with Tary trapped between them, unable to move...

Ignoring him, despite being _right there_ to feel _everything_ \- every intent movement brushing against him in a tantalizing caresses not meant for him to feel. To feel the hard pebbling of her nipples as her breasts graze his chest. To hear every gasp and moan and sigh fall from Percival's lips at her attention. Rocked between them as she pleasures Percy with her hand. Not allowed to move for fear of displeasing them....  

Made to stand there between them, captive to their every lingering touch. To feel the heat of their skin and every movement of their bodies in sweet torment. Until Tary is left shuddering, near weeping with need, begging that they would please, please touch him... To let him touch them, let him _please_ them.

Oh, how he _wants_ to please them. 

And only then would Percy grasp him by his aching cock. And he would use his calloused hands to rub and caress- not for his pleasure but using him to pleasure his lover as the  _Little Elf Girl_  grinds herself against him.

Arms around his shoulders, she would wrap her legs around his waist. Forcing him hold her up as long as long as he can. With Tary's hands, now finally _finally_  freed, clutching desperately at her thighs and the round globes of her ass. Leaving bites of passion to his neck and shoulders, the both of them would drive Tary to distraction. Left gasping and trembling by the feel of Percy's hand and the hot damp feel of her against him.

And when his knees give out, Percy would make him press her into the bed where the _Little Elf Girl_ would pull them in close. To cling to their shoulders. Arching into them. Tary would reach back to pull Percy near, baring his neck to the man's biting teeth. Lost to the bliss of that grinding rhythm. _Little Elf Girl's_  caressing hands scratching lines down his back as Percy...

As Percy  _takes_ him.  

Pressing into him him from behind. Murmuring praise as he uses Tary. Fucking him. Using him to Fuck the  _Little Elf Girl..._

Fucking her through him...

 

With an audible gasp, Tary grasps at his straining erection,  his back bowing at the sheer want raging through his body.

Dropping his head as he groans, eyes closed tight as he fights the urge to grind. His pulse pounding in his ears as his cock throbs against his palm. He's panting for breath. His blood singing through his veins- shooting small electric tremors of arousal through his body. His face burns, and with a mocking laugh he scoffs at himself, somewhat ashamed at the depths his fantasy had taken him this time...

 

While the sketch was realistic, where his mind had gone was not...  
The fantasy had tangled itself up with issues he'd rather not get mixed up with feelings about sex.

He'd just- he'd rather not.

 

Removing his hand, Tary runs it shakily through his golden hair, finding it damp against his forehead. He had been sweating in this stifling room. Taking off his shirt, he folds it up and tucks it behind his head- rather than tossing it to the grime on the ships floor.

This task has started to prove more troublesome than he'd initially thought it would be. Leaning back, he takes a moment to just breath- struggling to cool the raging hard on driven by the ardor of his lurid thoughts... Cursed as he was to have such a vivid imagination. He is tense, uncomfortable, and terribly aroused... and not exactly happy about it. 

 

And he's made little progress with... whatever it was he was supposed to be learning from this.

 

They are all just so damn attractive, it really is quite unfair.  
And now he was expected to try and seduce these veterans of both love and war?

He barely had been able to charm the chambermaid to join him in his bed when he was still held in good favor back home. It was the first time he hadn't had to pay for someone's tender attentions... Only to later discover that his own father had set her up to it. Some sort of a 'coming-to-age right of passage' for his 20th birthday. Still, he would like to think he gave her a stand up performance...

She certainly didn't seem to complain at the time. Or the few more times they'd shared after that...  
Whatever her name was. 

 

One pretty maid, however, was a far cry from being able to impress any one member of vox machina with his admittedly limited sexual prowess. Frankly, that he was intimidated as hell was a bit of an understatement. Facing the possibility of _literal_ _death_ by Kraken had been less daunting.

He hadn't been expected to seduce the _Kraken_ after all...

 

Still, he had managed to hold his own well enough so far. He'd proven himself in mortal combat, tasted of the coppery tang of near death and lived. And they had accepted him. Embraced him as one of their own. A full fledged member of Vox Machina... 

So he'd proven himself as worthy to join them in battle. Perhaps he still had time to prove himself to them as worthy a lover as well.  
He had time. This- this was all about exploration after all, right?

And he still had his promise to keep to the gno- to Pike.

 

To _Pike_. Right, he was supposed to be studying the pictures. Putting the names to the face. He can do that. 

Having calmed somewhat, but still uncomfortably aroused, he steels his resolve.  
He has only the one portrait left to go, and so he will learn at least this one name tonight or _his_  name isn't _Taryon Darrington_.

With a final breath, his face screwing up into a frown of determined concentration... He flips to the final page.

 

...gulp...

**_Whoa._ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon.  
> Chapter Three- The Big Guy


	3. The Big Guy

 

... Oh, _Boy...._

 

Clutched in his hand, Taryon holds the likeness of the final and  _largest_ member of vox machina.

 

The Big Guy poses with intention. Muscles flexed and legs spread wide as absolutely nothing  _nothing_ is hidden from view.  
Jumbo smiles shamelessly from his position on the page, a proud  _knowing_ leer.

And why wouldn't he be proud?  
Tary had heard that Goliath were half-giants, but he hadn't realized... hadn't thought of just what that would mean for a man...

 

There he was in all his glory. Large... Muscular... _Jutting_...

  _Jumbo._

 

Tary stares in wide, wild-eyed bafflement, with something that feels a close kin to panic fluttering in his chest...

He could not have possibly realized just how _appropriate_ that name would be. He remembered being shocked the first time he'd glanced at the sketch. When the gno- when Pike first handed them over and set him to his task... But somehow it seemed even larger than he remembered it being. So incomprehensible in it's largess that the memory of it diminished from the unbelievable reality...

 

It can't possibly be that big. An exaggeration...  _surely._

 

I-it is simply  _Massive._   _He_ is massive.  _Jumbo_ is- To be honest, Tary had never encountered a Goliath before in his life, but  _Jumbo_ is singularly the most  _massive_ individual he had ever chanced to meet in his _entire_ life. Everything about him is larger than life. _  
And he did mean _ everything.

Gods, How could he walk? How- how could he  _fight?_ Surely it would get in the way?

Tary's thoughts spun as he struggled to wrap his mind around it.

He obviously _can._ Tary had witnessed it with his own eyes... when they'd battled together in the deep. Remembering just how well the big guy had fought- He'd been simply Awe inspiring. The water echoing with his bellowing rage as he hurled his mighty, weighty weapon with relentless ferocity. Swinging a hammer as heavy as a man and having it dwarfed in his hands.... Heaving it recklessly through the unyielding force of the ocean pressing down around them, fluid grace and savage brutality in his every rippling muscle...

And then-then _Jumbo_  had gone and done something that had made him even  _BIGGER._

 

Tary feels light headed at the thought.  
And he gasps-gulping for air as he belatedly realizes he'd been holding his breath. 

Dramatically, Tary flops back into his hammock, throwing his arm over his eyes as he gives voice to a wheezing frustrated whine.   
The bed rocks violently in retaliation, and he has to kick his foot against the wall to stop it from toppling him over. Squirming as he tries to adjust himself around the solid and uncomfortable tent that has formed in his trousers....

 

Chiding himself for his distraction, Tary swings unhappily.  
He is not getting anywhere at this rate, and dammit- he had made a _promise,_ and he was damn well going to keep it.

He  _will_ learn this _one_  name. Tonight. If it kills him.

The hand holding the sketch snatches it back up towards his face, and Tary squints determinedly at the scribble he'd added...  
Struggling to make out his horrendous handwriting in the poor flickering candle light...  
There is a  _reason_ he has Doty transcribe everything for him, and it is  _not_ because he can't write or spell or any other such nonsense. He can  _write_ just _fine_ thank you very much.

It's just that... nobody can read what he's  _written_ most of the time. Himself included.

 

G-Grrr- _Is that an e?_ Greg. There.  _Jumbo's_ name is  _Greg._ GREG. Greg. Grrrrregg. 

 

Resuming his study, Tary tries to not let the obvious  _distraction_ distract him again.  _Juh-_ _Greg_ , Greg  _his name is_ Greg- Greg is sprawled out in a comfortable pose. Arms bent, one behind his head and the other resting on his knee... his legs spread wide and _he is completely hairless-_ yanks his eyes back up- Save for the beard of course. 

It's a nice beard. Tary thinks, staring determinedly at the man's face. Bristly but not overly bushy. Tousled but not unkept. Black and thick, starkly defining the strong square profile of his jaw. It looks fuller than his own goatee, and Tary runs a hand over his own soft scruff... wondering what the texture would feel like against his hand in comparison.

 

In thick swaths of black ink, tribal tattoos cross the Goliath's face. Framing  _Jum-_ framing Greg's dark eyes as they smolder- sultry like and full of intent. The tattoos continue, curling over the smooth baldness of his head- disappearing from sight only to appear again- Spanning across the bulging cords of his muscular neck. Emphasizing the definition in his strong shoulders.

And he is scarred. All of vox machina bore scars, but the big guy was positively  _riddled_ with them.

Unthinking, Tary's free hand began to trace his own, newly acquired scars. His once clear, unmarred chest now barring the permanent mark of magically healed wounds. They are still sensitive, the raw nerves still remembering the damage even though they are now whole- and the absentminded caress raises goosebumps along his arm. 

The barbarian. The fighter. The warrior. J- _Greg's_ chest is liberally painted with the trophies of his past. The remnants of battles hard won. Of lucky blows and deadly strikes that failed to best this mighty giant of a man. Leaving silvery lines to slash and spiderweb over his grey toned skin.

 

Would they be sensitive? Or would the scars have deadened the skin underneath, leaving the clear unmarked skin around them to be that much more aware for it's lack.The slightest touch jangling the nerves.

Tary's breath hitches as his hand drifts ever lower, fingernails dragging light scratches across his abs.

No amount of scarring, however, could ever hope to disguise the sheer prowess in that powerful form. Those broad shoulders. The bulging forearms and the wide expanse of his chest... Those mighty  _meaty_ pecs.

Tary is not a small man by any means, but he is left positively _dainty_ in comparison to this hulking behemoth of sheer raw masculinity. The Goliath is as solid as a mountain made flesh and just as immovable. If he wanted, with one hand he could _snap_  Taryon in half. Or throw him around like a ragdoll _with ease_...

Tary's eyes traces down the subtle dip down the middle of his chest. So deceptively shallow, under the weight of a fat, almost chubby tummy. A generous girth of soft flesh, concealing the powerful core of rock hard abs. The sharp cut of his hipbones defining the lines of his stomach- guiding the eyes ever farther down...

Tary swallows thickly- powerless to stop his eyes from following that line down. 

 

Gods, it is  _primal._ Tary thinks, his hand falling to follow where his eyes have led. Tary begins rubbing in earnest, desperately hard through the thin, confining cloth of his trousers. A proud monstrosity of a cock. It rests, upright, long and curved against Jumbo's thick muscular thigh... with just the most subtle droop, suggesting that the fullness of it has yet to be seen...

Just _half_ erect, and the thing is mindbogglingly large.

Good gods, how much bigger could it possibly get?  
How much bigger, when the half-giant's girthy _massive_ cock is truly aroused into a full throbbing hardness, rock hard and pulsing with need... And there was the chance, the _possibility,_  that Tary would _find out_ _first hand._

 

It's almost too much for him to imagine, and panting his hand picks up the pace.

 

To imagine Jumbo's huge strong hands. Picking him up effortlessly in his arms or tossing him over his strong shoulder. Carrying him like he weighs nothing, despite the fact that Tary has the not inconsiderable weight of a man grown and fully clad in armor... Just like he did before, Tary recalls, when he rescued him during their battle together down in those watery depths...

Breathless, he can almost remember how it felt, to be lifted up in those powerful arms and held fast against his massive flexing chest.

His feet dangling above the ground. Carried like a helpless damsel from a novel...

Tary could kick and squirm all he liked, pounding his fists against the wide muscular expanse of the barbarian's back. All to no avail. No, only when _he_ is good and ready, would Jumbo drop him wherever it is that he wishes. Completely at the mercy of this merciless warrior...

Pinning Tary against a wall- trapped between the rock and the hard place that is this strong barbarian. Or perhaps flinging him to a bed like in the sketch, to be relentlessly ravished by this rakish _brute_ of a man.... Or even, Tary bites his lip stifling a moan-

Or even just dropping him where he stands, to fall the floor at his feet. Forcing him to his knees to kneel before him...

And there- There he would be made to behold the most daunting, impossibly large cock he'd ever seen in his life...  
And Jumbo would hold him there, taking great fistfuls of Taryon's golden hair, and demand his pleasure.

And he would take the Goliath's cock in both his hands. Made to stroke and caress it as it grows ever larger. The hands upon his head inescapable and, grip tightening in his hair, he would forcing him in. Grinding the thick hairless flesh into Tary's face as he lavs it with his tongue. To suck, open mouthed on that massive cock until he's _choking on it._..

 

The pages drop nervelessly from his hand, scattering across the floor.

 

With a whining keen Tary finally gives- scrabbling desperately at the clasp of his belt he frees his straining erection.

His heart pounding loud in his ears, adrenaline surging through his body and he can't tell if the cause is lust or terror or even some unsightly mix of the two...Flinging out a hand to brace against the wall, he fists his cock in rough frantic strokes... Gasping moans as the pleasure mounts.

Gods, would he even be able to wrap his hands around it? Would it grow so large? How much of it could he- could he swallow? Would he be _able_ to take it all? Or, after taking as much as he could- would he still have space for his hands, to work hands and mouth along that long shaft.

Or-or would even that be too much- unable to keep up with the Goliath's thrusts- his hands unable to keep hold as they slip and slide over sweaty hairless skin... He is held in place, reduced to gagging as  _Jumbo_ fucks his open mouth. 

 

Tary's hips buck into the tight grip of his hand, near gasping sobs as he gives up trying to stop.

The hammock swings in unstable counterpoint to his thrusts. His free hand sliding from the wall, reaching to grasp at the rope and canvas of his bed above his head as he arches, moaning. His body is in flames. He is so close...

But it's not quite enough... And now Tary's fantasy is slowly fading, dissipating in the mad lustful haze of his mind.

He whines desperately, chasing after that final crest towards ecstasy. Wantonly babbling breathless words that are half nonsense-half blasphemy as he struggles to get that final push over the edge. Bucking and writhing, his hand pumping furiously with reckless abandon-

Oh gods, how he  _wants._ He  _needs. He is so close.  
_ With his free hand, Tary abandons his grip on the bed, frantically grabbing a handful of his own hair and sharply  _pulls-_

And that's all it takes, and he crashes over the peak. Cumming over his hand with an intensity that leaves his ears ringing.

 

For a solid minute, Tary just lies there panting in reaction.

His hammock gently swinging as he reveled in the aftershocks and fading glow.  
Trying to catch his breath, after what had to have been... the best orgasm of his life. 

 

_And doesn't that just go to show just how out of his league he really is._

Tary laughs abruptly, a hoarse and humorless sound. He drags a hand across his eyes discovering the remnants of damp tears on his cheeks.  
Gods, he is pathetic. Unmanned by daydreams and fantasies.

How on earth is he going to be able to do this? To impress these people, to get them to _accept_ him. To prove his worth as a lover-  
And he can't keep himself together- Can't even control himself- long enough to just _study_ three simple portraits?

Tary scrubs roughly at his face, dashing away the tears lingering there before reaching into his pocket to retrieve his handkerchief.  
Tiding himself up as  best he can, before tossing the soiled cloth away where it falls to the grimy ships floor in the far corner of his room. 

Then, huddling in his swinging bed as best he can, Tary pulls his blanket over his head and closes his eyes. Fruitlessly trying to derive some comfort from the itchy weight of the wool as he hides from the creeping feelings of self loathing and the sudden gaping loneliness that's aching, hollow and familiar in his chest.

 

 

Three very  _realistic_ portraits...

Oh, gods, he's doomed.

 

And with that final despairing thought, Tary falls asleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon.  
> Chapter Four- Something to Explore


	4. Something to Explore

 

 

His dreams that night are anything but restful...

 

Snippets flit elusively across his defenseless sleeping mind, erotic and lustful swirls of color and motion, chasing him endlessly through the realm of Morpheus. Fleeting sensation of pleasurable touches. The low sounds of throaty moans murmuring his name. The brushing of lips, the hot damp of an open mouth, tantalizing and willing. Only to slip away, dancing out of reach the moment he reaches for them. Lost as they fade away into the warm fuzzy darkness and the impression of teasing laughter.

 

Tary’s hammock rudely dumps him to the floor, finally fed up with his endless tossing and turning.  
And thus abruptly, Tary wakes in the early morning, dazed and aching in more places than one.

 

Grumpily and boneless, Tary struggles to get to his feet. His groggy mind still muddled with half-remembered dreams as they rapidly fade from whence they came. His nightclothes had twisted uncomfortably about him during the night, clinging damply to his sweaty skin. Wrinkling his nose at the clammy sensation, Tary flails about as he tries to change and stand at the same time...only to stagger, slipping on something underfoot. Tary smacked heavily against the wall, Barely catching himself before he slid back into a graceless heap on the floor.  
Rubbing at his bruised shoulder Tary huffed, squinting bleary eyed at the offending object...

 

...discovering the sketches from the night before, left scattered about where he’d dropped them.

 

Suddenly wide awake and blushing bright red, Tary quickly dropped to his knees, collecting them together, the events of the previous night playing rapidly through his mind. Tary exhales shakily- briefly running a hand over his face, before deliberately turning his mind away from the most excellent drawings and his actions from the night before. Still, best to not having them lying willy-nilly all over the floor. And Tary quickly retrieves his bag, stuffing the erotic portraits away deep within the confines of the bag of holding...

 

As Tary withdraws his hand, a thought strikes him, and he finds himself holding the item that the big guy had given him the day before...  
The Magical Egg of Immense Power.

That's right, Tary thinks a short smile crossing his face, turning it over in his hands as he huffs with remembered awe and surprise. Jumbo had been so impressed with him, their shared battle experience, that he’d gone out of his to give him this wondrous thing... a true token of friendship. Admiring the stratified bands of blues and grays that cross it’s stone-like shell, Tary figured it did make sense that he would give it to him. What use would a great Goliath warrior have for an item of magical strength? It probably paled in comparison to the man’s own physical prowess.

Still, Tary didn’t think he’d be able to use it himself. The big man could probably have gulped it all down with one big swallow... Tary’d be lucky to hork down the contents of a small mundane chicken egg. Just even the thought of having to _consume_ the raw gooey contents of this magical egg’s massive yoke was frankly revolting.

Tary shuddered, swallowing down his sudden squeamishness as he returned the egg to his bag.

He may be truly touched by this overture of friendship, but no amount of promised power would make him eat this thing as anything other than an omelette. Fully cooked and well done with onions.

 

Determinedly pushing away the lingering thoughts, Taryon set about making himself presentable.

 

His clothes are clean, freshly pressed and richly colorful. His hair, teeth and armor brushed into a gleaming shine. His golden goatee, trimmed into sharp perfection. In his hand mirror, Tary gives himself a final once over...  
Then, gearing up for the day, Tary gives himself his usual pep talk as he practices his most charming smiles...

He is _Taryon Darrington,_ adventurer extraordinaire.  
He is handsome. Impossibly good looking. A virile young man, both extraordinarily talented and charming in equal measure. Oozing confidence, leadership and the potential for greatness from his every pore. Intelligent. Charismatic. And _sexy_ as hell...  
Who could possibly be able to resist him? Not vox machina that’s who. They wouldn’t know what hit them.  

And with a final nod to his reflection, he puts the mirror away as he throws opens his door.  
Together with his faithful Doty, Tary heads out to greet the day. To prove it, with all the confidence and swagger he can muster.

 

It is, without a doubt, the _hardest_ day of his life.

 

He can’t tell if it's just his new heightened _awareness_ of them, or if the rest of Vox Machina is _purposefully_ trying to torment him into insanity before they reach land. Or even just trying to outright kill him with the sheer lack of blood flow managing to reach north of his navel alone.

 

At the bow of the ship stood their powerful leader, the morning sun at her back. Setting her red hair aglow as it whipped like fire through the air as she commanded the very air around them. Controlling winds to fill the billowing sails to fullness. The ship beneath his feet creaking and groaning as it crashes through the waves at increasing speeds. The sunlight glints off of her well toned shoulders, glittering with the fine misting of salt spray sprinkled over her clear skin.

 

“Enjoying the view?”

The voice comes unexpectedly from directly behind him and Tary near leaps out of his skin, startling violently as the Little Elf Boy clasps a hand to his shoulder grinning cheekily, “She’s quite the sight isn’t she, Tary.”

“Oh, Good morning Tary,” Antlers says turning a beatific smile their way, halting Tary’s stuttering reply as his breath catches at the sight, “I didn’t hear you come up. Did you sleep well?”

“Ah-ye-Yes,” Tary’s voice embarrassingly cracks as he struggles to speak, causing the Little Elf Boy to squeeze his shoulder and wink at him before letting go to go to her side. He coughs, and clears his throat, “I slept jus-Just fine. Perfectly, perfectly adequate. Ah ha, And- and you?”

 

Tary instantly regretted the question. A poor response as it just brought back to mind the particulars of their portrait. Tary was left blushing red as he watched the two of them together. Regardless, Tary was ignored completely as the Little Elf Boy sat himself up on the railing before reaching out to pull Antler’s down for a brief kiss. Tary shifted his weight, awkwardly trying not to stare. They smiled at each other, like lovers do, bumping noses before- with a roguish grin spreading across his angular features- the Rogue tipped himself backwards, falling off the ship.

 

Tary gasped, taking an involuntary step forward towards the railing before, with the woosh of rushing wind and rustling feathers, the half-elf soared back up into the sky. His pair of raven black wings catching the air and lifting him aloft to fly in dancing circles and playful acrobatics.

Antlers laughed, either at Tary’s reaction or the half-elf's antics above them, her hands still held aloft as she compelled the ship forward with the winds under her command and- Tary could only guess-playfully twisting the air about her airborne boyfriend.

 

A sudden, second dark shadow swooped past, dive bombing Tary’s head as he instinctively ducked. The twin-sister near clipping him with her broom as she joined her brother in the sky. Heart racing, Tary dropped his hand back down to the railing from where it had instinctively covered his chest. Eyes torn between the half elf beside him and the two in the air, Tary watched in amazed awe at the sight before him.

It’s an innocuous start to the day, almost innocent for all that Tary can barely tear his eyes away from the three captivating beings before him. Leaning on the rail with his arms crossed at the elbow, Tary relished the peaceful moment- occasionally dictating to Doty whenever a particular bit of inspired narration struck his fancy. Enjoying the unspoken camaraderie with Antlers as they watch the pair frolick in the sky above.

 

It was not to last.

 

After sleeping in and having eaten lunch, the Goliath had finally become restless below deck...  
And so it was that Jumbo inevitably made his way up onto the deck of the ship to join them.

 

It was impossible not to notice him. The sheer force of his presence filled the area as the sound of his great footsteps upon the wooden planking heralded his arrival.

An echoing tremor ran up Tary’s spine. Standing rigidly straight, Tary stared determinedly out to sea at the edge of the horizon. Stiffly resisting the urge to turn around and gawk as the big man managed to cajole the sailors into allowing him to work out on the rigging.

 

“Oh geez Tary. Are you okay?”  Antlers glanced at him in concern, nudging him with her elbow to his side.  
“You should probably get out of the sun. You’re getting pretty red.”

“I-I’m Fine” Tary choked out, barely avoiding a humiliating squeak. “Just fine. Really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright, if you say so...” She gave him a dubious look in response, and seemed to let it go. But, touched, Tary couldn’t help but notice that a moment later she had moved a bit of cloud fluff to hover above his head, casting a dappled shadows.

 

And so it passed for the better part of the hour.  
  
The dark twins athletically frolicking in the sky above, the wind carrying fragments of their gay laughter.  
The kind, powerful, breathtakingly beautiful druid at his side- ineffectively trying to carry a conversation with her concentration split.

As Tary desperately tried to ignore the sounds of the Goliath behind him.  
  
Huffing and puffing. Occasional grunts of exertion accompanied by the low growls of satisfaction.  
The ropes creaking rhythmically against the strain. Each sound more suggestive than the next.

 

Inevitably, agonizingly, the hour passed.

  
His dark feathered wings fading away, the Little Elf Boy returned to the ship at Antler’s side.

“How about lunch?” He asked, and exhaling gustily, she smiled at him, wiping the light sheen of sweat from her brow as her tired arms fell to her side, “Lunch sounds fantastic.”

“Don’t stay out too long Tarry,” She called back to him as they turned arm in arm to head back below deck for her to rest up so that Antlers could continue her spells later... Her lonely cloud dissipating over his head to let the bright noon sun to shine down on his golden hair.

 

Above, the Little Elf Girl continued her flight, less acrobatic now that her brother was no longer there to spur her on. And Tary was left alone on the deck to watch her fly, drifting slow and kite-like.

 

He did not remain alone for long.

 

“Oi, Tary-Jumbo,” came the great rumbling voice of the Goliath as he thudded his feet back down to meet the ground. “Got a question for ya.”

 

A great heavy hand landed on his shoulder, making him jump. Not far however, as the hand clamped down and physically turned Tary around.

“Ah yes,” Tary gulped, eyes up, “Hello there big- a Juh a- _Greg._ What can I ah- What can I do for you.”

“Uh, yeah,” Greg squinted at him, a puzzled expression on his face before shaking it off, “So yeah. So- you remember when you first joined up with us, right? ”

“Ummm yes? Sort of,” Tary responded, hyper aware of the weight of the man’s hand on his shoulder.

“Do you remember,” the big man continued, ignoring or just unaware of Tary’s awkward shifting, “ How we gave you that little tussle. You know, Test your mettle an’ all that right. Vax got you with that sneaky move of his and I got to go toe to toe with tha’ metal gent of yours... Remember?”

“Ah, Right. That.” Tary distinctly remembered that, “To be honest I’ve been trying to block it out. What about it?”

“Right!” Greg beamed at him, “So what say you to lettin’ us have another go?”

 

“What?” Tary blinked, trying to take a step back only to be stopped short by goliaths’ hold on him.

“Oh- no, not you,” Greg said before jabbing a thumb over at Doty, “I meant me n’ him.

“Yeah cause,” he continued at Tary’s continued look of confusion, “We’d barely gotten started ‘for it was over an’ all. And while you did get in a few good shots, not gonna lie, you are more on the squishier side of things than I’d like for a sparring partner...

“But Tin-Man over there can take a decent hit,” he said, a lopsided grin spreading across his face as Greg looked down at him, “So I was wonderin’ if you’d mind if we could go a few rounds.”

 

“What’s going on now?” The Little Elf Girl had obviously gotten bored with her lazy flight and had decided to return to the ship now that something potentially interesting was happening.

“Seein’ if Tary-Jumbo’d let me have a go at his robot,” Greg replied cheerfully before Tary had a chance to respond.

“Oh, do let him Tary,” was her immediate reply, looking down on him with a condescending pout, “He does get so restless when he’s all cooped up on a ship like this. Let Grog play with your toy soldier.”

 

“Well ah,” Tary shifted under the combined force of their attention, “I don’t- I don’t see why not...”

“YEAH!” Greg- Grog? bellowed, causing Tary to stagger as he clapped his hand against Tary’s back as he bounced away, “That’s the spirit! Come on Tin-Man show me what you got!”

 

Tary straightened up, calling Doty over and commanding him to spar with the goliath, “You’re not going to _break_ him though, are you? It’s just a spar right?”

“No promises.” Grog growled, grinning savagely and with that he lept into his charge....

 

The fight that followed was fast and brutal, and Tary was powerless to look away- only partly because he needed to keep an eye on Doty. They clashed together, fists meeting metal in great clangs that rang out bright and clear over the ocean air. They grappled together, and Tary was treated to a front row view to shear rippling power of Gre- Gro- the goliath’s straining muscles. With a cunning look in his eye, A thought flashed across the half giant’s face and, in a singular fluid move swept the legs out from under Doty- dropping him down with a mighty crash, his booming laughter rolling high like thunder over the noise.

 

“Vex?”

“Hello darling, coming up to join the party?”

“I heard a ruckus, what’s happening up here?”

“Grog’s sparring with Doty, care to watch?”

“How delightful. You know, I think I will.”

 

Tary could feel his heart pounding a strong tattoo in his chest. Breathing hard and sweating as if he was fighting the massive man himself instead of through his oldest and most trusted friend. Commanding Doty back onto his feet, he swung wide, feinting to the left only to connect with the right in a strong uppercut to the jaw- rocking the big man back on his heels.

“Ha ha! That’s more like it!” He laughed before wrapping his big hands around Doty’s overextended fist and turning to lift his opponent up over his shoulder and back down in a suplex maneuver. Doty thudded solidly against the ground, the reverberation rattling Tary’s bones- sending shockwaves up his spine in reaction.

 

“Ten gold says Grog rips an arm off before this is over.”

“My dear Vex’ahlia, I never bet against a sure thing.”

“Fifteen gold.”

“Your on.”

 

“Doty Up!” Tary hollered, voice trembling on the edge of shrill in excitement, and Doty did as he was commanded- Jackknifing up into a solid head against the Goliath's face.

Grog reeled back, hand instinctively covering his wounded appendage before dropping his hand down. Smearing the blood from his nose down his face like grisly warpaint as he leered down with a burning heat as the battle lust grew in his eyes- the very sight causing Tary’s knees to go weak in reaction.

“Do-Doty Attack!” Tary yelled again, panting, as he tried to press his advantage. And Doty leapt forward again, only for the Goliath to dodge nimbly to the side- tripping the automaton with an ankle. Grabbing Doty before he could hit the floor, Grog took hold of both his arms- pressing his foot to the middle of his back- the metal screeching shrilly as he _pulls._

Doty lurches, it’s self preservation kicking in, as he tries to kick himself free of the Goliath’ grasp- a hard strike to the gut knocking the wind from Grog with a gusty grunt- but he keeps hold tenaciously. The metal of Doty’s arms giving out threatening groans and pops  as he pulls against them...

 

Grog makes eye contact with Tary suddenly, victory in his eyes and his gaze _knowing_. 

“S-sto- Yield!” Tary gasped out, “I yeild! Doty stand down. I surrender- please-”

 

“Ha ha, That was great,” Grog laughed, reveling in his small victory. Releasing Doty, he wiped his hands his hands together as he stepped away, “A fantastic workout- nothin’ like a lil' friendly bloodshed to get the heart pumping. I feel all limber and all now.”

“Thanks Tary-Jumbo,” he said, clapping his hand once more to Tary’s back with bruising strength as he walked on by, “Just what the doctor ordered. Hey, we should do this again sometime. Be fun.”

 

“Um ah, y-yeah. Fun.” Tary echoed still dazed and reeling. He swallows hard and tries to control his breathing...  
He is painfully hard under his armor and he prays to any and all the gods listening in that it doesn’t show.

 

Staggering slightly as he tries to take a step forward, Tary takes just the briefest moments to make sure his knees are going to keep him upright before going over to Doty’s side to asses the damage. Doty manages to regain his feet on his own, which is a good sign that he’s not too irreparably damaged. The arcane contraption twists his arms around as Tary asks him to, turning them this way and that as his master looks him over for catches in the joints or any severe denting.

“Good show there Tary,” Percival says as he walks up to them, his eyes a startlingly bright blue without the glare of his glasses, “I may have mentioned it before, but this contraption of yours is most impressive. I do hope that Grog didn’t manage to thrash it too terribly...”

“Oh, um, no.” Is his voice still shaky? Tary does his best to appear preoccupied with his metal friend and not stilted and stiff for _other,_ more embarrassing reasons, “Doty’s quite solidly built. And I should know, I built him.”

“Yes, you have mentioned that,” Percy murmured lowly.

“He’s got a few dents but they should be able to buff out easily enough and...” Tary paused struggling to find the words, rolling his own shoulders in demonstration, “His ah- um- shoulder... Rotation-joint... thing. Seems like it might be catching a bit- But it's nothing a little oil and tlc won’t take care of.”

 

“Glad to hear it,” Percy smiled, breaking eye contact to roam his gaze over Doty in curiosity, “However, if you do find that you need help with him for anything, let me be the first to offer my service. I would love to  take a look at his inner workings if you have a chance to pop open the hood- as it were.”

“I-ah, yes. Thank you,” he blushed, the blood finally being able to make it’s way back up to his face. Touched at the somewhat sincere offer of interest. Tary’d never really had a friend that was interested in what he could do before, his tinkering and hobbies. It was nice.

“If I do, you will be the first to know.”

 

“Grand. Speaking of which,” Percy put his hand on Tary’s arm steering him back towards the below deck, “I had a few small things that I was working on that I could use a hand with. Or rather your eyes- seeing as Grog still has possession of my glasses. I’m having trouble focusing on the things in front of me and I could use your help to make sure all the little fiddly bits are where they need to be. I can tell you more over lunch perhaps? If you’re interested that is...”

“I- Yes!- yes, I would be very interested in helping you in whatever capacity you have need of me.”

Tary hoped he wasn’t coming off as overeager, but couldn’t help tripping over his tongue, quietly delighted that the other man thought to extend the invitation, “Please, allow me. It would be my pleasure-my honor- to help you in whatever task. You have my word that , whatever you found so insurmountable as you struggled on your own- My unique skill set is up for the challenge -”

 

“Yes well,” Percy laughed giving him a gentle pat, “Perhaps not as involved as all that. Let me show you what I mean over lunch, how about that?”

“Yes, yes. Lunch sounds,” Tary’s stomach rumbled low in his stomach and he coughed, “Lunch sounds ideal. Lead the way. Percival.”

And with that Tary marched off ahead of the other man, descending below deck towards the galley.  
Behind his back, Percy rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Taryon’s antics.

 

Doty took note.

 

Lunch consisted of the usual fair, the group gathering and departing as they finished their meals as they willed and wandered off to find their own amusements. Antlers soon departing as she made her way back up to call the winds forward once more. Greg regaling Vox with a recap of his spar above, stuffing his face ravenously as he gave the blow by blow...

And Tary, pressed shoulder to shoulder between the big guy and Percival, as Percy presented Tary with the mostly finished shell jewelry he had been working on crafting since arriving at Vesrah. Brushing hands and knocking elbows as the young lord pointed out the looser knots and drooping shell points that he wished to improve- squinting down as he leaned close enough for Tary to feel his warm breath on his hands.

With the other half-elf Vox sitting across from them next to her brother... _Playing footsie_ _with_ him _under the table._  
Leaving Taryon struggling to focus as the Little Elf Girl ran her dainty foot up his leg, smiling all the while.  
_Winking_ at Percival beside him whenever she caught his eye...

God was everyone so physically affectionate in this group? Tary wondered, as another arm brushed his shoulder, grazing the back of his neck and sending tiny shockwaves of tingles down his spine. He’d never been around so many physically demonstrative people in his life- was this just something he would have to get used to? Or was it just him.

 

And so the rest of the day passed much like this.

Surrounded by the warm, affectionate camaraderie of his companions. There was laughter, and yes sometimes at his expense, but warm and welcoming nonetheless. And every moment, Tary was under siege, swept away by the sheer onslaught of their blatent sexappeal. Near burning, overwhelmed and hypersensitive to their every move and every touch-

And then, when he finally retired to his cabin for the evening, he remembered his promise.

 

Groaning, Tary clasped his hands to his eyes. _The Flashcards._ How on earth was he going to manage this, after the day he had... Yo-yoing around the edge of arousal like a horny teenager who had just discovered idea of sex as a concept. His blood buzzing through his veins, he was wound tighter than a spring, and he had been yearning to touch his cock all day.

He can hear the cultured tones of Vox? Vix? The Little Elf Girl- as she speaks to Percival next door. Indistinct, but their sudden laughter rings through easily through the wood paneling.

Tary swallows determinedly as he closes his eyes, doing his best to ignore them, and retrieves the sketches from his bag. He can do this. He made a promise after all. And a promise made by Taryon Darrington is a promise kept.

 

He can do this.

Confidently Tary opens his eyes- His vision is made full of bold curves, sensuous lines and suggestive artistry-

And immediately Tary closes them again, a strangled whimper of frustration escaping him.  

He can’t do this.

 

Curse that lovely, heavenly cleric for wringing such a promise from him. Damn him for making it. He is going to die. He’s going to spontaneously combust from the sheer sexual arousal alone and perish before they even reach sight of land again. What a way to get famous.  
_Here lies Taryon Darrington. Adventurer Extraordinaire. Slain by his own stubborn erection._   

 

Tary drops his head against the door in three heavy knocks only to stop suddenly. Eyes going wide. The heavy thumping continues without him... And it sounds suspiciously like the wooden pole of a hammock, beating rhythmically against the wall of the room next door...

 

 _“Vex..._ ”

_“Gods you’re fantastic darling don’t stop...”_

 

“Oh, **_God_** _._ ” Tary groans despairing as he slides down the door to puddle at his feet.

It is a _very,_ **_very_** long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon.  
> Chapter Five- The Mighty Rod


End file.
